


Dragged

by BigG1999



Series: ClexaWeek2018 [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clexa Week 2018, Dead Jake, F/F, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 18:18:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13932624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigG1999/pseuds/BigG1999
Summary: Day one of Clexa Week 2018 (two weeks late)Meet Ugly!





	Dragged

**Author's Note:**

> This had reference to Jake being dead. The angst is Abby, not Clexa.   
> It's kinda OOC, but I think this might be how a teen would deal with their parent's death, which is something we don't see in the show. So yeah. Enjoy.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Clarke snaps, glaring at her mother.

“What have I told you about cussing at me?” Abby snaps at her, her brown eyes challenging the blue of her daughter, “I’m serious Clarke. Your latest stunt means you aren’t allowed to be home alone after six, so you get to come with me.”

“Come on Mom! You know that was Fi-”

“You allowed him into our house, his actions are on you. Now go get ready for dinner. Wear that red dress,” Abby orders.

Clarke growls, grinding her teeth together. Abby sends her another pointed look, earning an eye roll as Clarke heads towards her room. Clarke mumbles to herself as she climbs the stairs.

“What was that?” Abby yells after her.

“I’m so fucking excited!” Clarke spits. 

Abby signs, putting her head in her hands and leaning against the wall. Her eyes fall on the unworn boots by the door. Boots that will never be worn by their past owner again. A single tear falls before she can stop it.

“Pull it together,” she mumbles to herself, wiping her eyes and going to the guest bedroom to get ready instead of the master.

* * *

 

“You’re going to be sitting over here,” Abby says, leading Clarke to a table of two.

“What is this, the children’s table?” Clarke questions, sitting down in the spot with her name regardless.

“The Woods’ also have a daughter, the staff decided to put you two together. Play nice, I have to go mingle,” Abby orders.

“By mingle you mean flirt with random men?” Clarke spits.

Abby sighs, biting the inside of her cheek, “Clarke, can you just be good? For one night?”

Clarke rolls her eyes, intently focusing on the name card.

“Thank you,” Abby whispers, leaving her daughter alone.

Clarke takes out her phone, not even pretending to pay attention to the men, many with wives on their arms, who keep glancing over at her, regardless of the fact she’s only 17. Blue eyes glance up when the chair across from her moves, but quickly goes back to the screen before even looking at the person.

The person doesn’t say a word, instead opting to sit in silence. Clarke can feel them put their hands on the table and can see without looking up that they haven’t taken out a phone. Her skin bubbles at the idea of this guy just sitting there, staring at her. 

Clarke shoots a glare at the person, intent on meeting his eyes, only to be shocked so much she gasps.

Before her sits a beautiful brunette. Blue eyes dart from feature to feature, trying to take her in. Sharp jawline, simple black dress that shows cleavage, her folded hands on the table, which she’s staring intently at, her plump lips, her dark curls pulled to one side.

“Wow,” Clarke whispers, causing the girl’s eyes to snap to hers.

“Wow,” she repeats, taking in the clear green eyes now presented to her.

“Hi,” the girl replies, her eyes giving Clarke a far quicker glance over.

“I’m Clarke,” Clarke grins, not the slightest bit ashamed of being caught admiring the girl.

“Lexa.”

Clarke chuckles at the girl, obviously not interested in having a conversation.

“So how old are you?” she questions regardless.

“Seventeen.”

“Me too, what a surprise. So what did you do to get dragged here?”

“Nothing.”

“Do you enjoy coming to these things?”

“No.”

Clarke chuckles, rolling her eyes as she grabs a flute of champagne from a server’s tray. 

“You’re going to be so much fun tonight, aren’t you?” Clarke questions, downing the flute.

“Probably not.”

“Oh my god, someone call the cops, I got two words instead of one,” Clarke teases.

Lexa doesn’t reply, instead looking down at her hands.

“Come on,” Clarke says, taking the girl’s hand in her own.

Lexa, surprisingly, lets herself be dragged across the room and into a bathroom.

“What are you doing Klark?” Lexa questions, her eyes trailing the blonde, taking in the beautiful red dress.

“You don’t seem to like words, so I’ve decided that you must like action,” Clarke says, pushing Lexa against the door, locking it.

Lexa raises an eyebrow, earning an eye roll before Clarke connects their lips. It’s short, just a peck really.

“I’m sorry if that was unwanted. You just look really good,” Clarke whispers, looking into green eyes.

Lexa blushes before leaning in and gently pushing their lips together again. It’s long and slow, no movement, just their souls meeting. 

“So, you wanna ditch this place?” Clarke questions with a smirk when they pull apart.

Lexa chuckles, taking Clarke’s hand, “lead the way.”


End file.
